A/N: OMG Ya'll - have we seen "Hollander's Woods"? I won't spoil for anyone who hasn't yet, but it was definitely my favorite episode of Season 7. Fabulous season finale! (Thank god Season not Series - though it would have made a good one of those)

Ten

Leaning against the refrigerator, Richard Castle bit his lip as he watched his daughter smash refrigerated Pillsbury dough across the bottom of a cookie sheet. I will not be a control freak; I will not be a control freak; I will not be a control freak, became his mantra. He was trying not to intervene but only supervise, though it was positively killing him.

Per her assignment, she was to come up with and make the meal on her own with very little input from her parent, save where safety was concerned. For the most part, Castle had done well. She was making an absolute mess, but that he didn't mind so much. It was the horrible and inefficient way she did everything else that was driving him insane. Twice he tried to suggest a better way, but he was immediately chastised with a, "Daddy, I can do it," from his red-head. All he could do was stand back, watch and hope Kate would like her taco pizza creation.

Kate.

As he'd been focused on making sure his daughter didn't cut herself or destroy anything in their kitchen, Castle actually had not thought about his female partner since the cooking process began about twenty minutes earlier. That had to be a record, as he had thought about her every moment of every hour since waking up.

The events of the prior evening had been an unexpected surprise, but certainly not an unwelcome one. She was, in a word, extraordinary. He'd known that before, but after making love to her he knew nothing could convince him otherwise. She was the kind of woman he felt lucky just knowing. He was blessed to work with her and if their relationship could be more that would be even better.

More. Did he really want that?

Of course he was thinking about her now when everything was so fresh. The feel of their bodies together was still vivid in his mind as it was not quite twenty-four hours later. Would he still feel the same after a week? After the initial (and literal) climax to their sexual tension had died off? His gut said yes, but his brain wasn't so sure.

Their situation was no doubt complex. They worked together—they worked well together. Their working partnership and crime solving rate was the envy of their department; this was no secret to any of them. Did he want to risk ruining that by sleeping with Kate for a few weeks and then having their relationship blow up in his face? Of course not. But, the devil's advocate side of him wondered, what if it didn't blow up?

Perhaps, he sighed inwardly, he was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe Kate didn't want to sleep with him again. Maybe she just wanted to leave it to one night. Maybe that was for the best.

"Okay, sweetie," Castle said when his daughter finished mushing the dough around. "Let me help you put it in the oven."

"Dad," she said with a whine. "I can do it."

Castle bit the interior of his lip. She was twelve, not five, but he still did not want to see her get burned. "Okay, honey, just be real careful."

He watched with bated breath as she pulled open the oven door, slid the tray onto the top rack, took a step back and shut the door again. Almost on cue, the moment the oven door shut the buzzer to their apartment door rang. "And that'll be your guest of honor," he told her with a smile.

Alexis beamed and raced to the door. She gripped the handle and pulled it open. Looking up at the taller, leather jacket clad woman she said, "Good evening, Detective Beckett; c'mon in!"

Kate could not help but chuckle at the precocious girl. She certainly had inherited her father's flair for drama. Though she could not fully recall every detail of being twelve years old, the red-head seemed tall for her age, which made sense given her father's height, but perhaps she was merely elongated by the orange-red braided pigtails she wore with a purple short sleeved dress and black knee-length leggings.

"Good evening, Alexis," Kate smiled at her. "And you can call me Kate."

"Well c'mon in! Dinner's almost ready!" Alexis waved her hand dramatically to usher Kate inside. She skipped off towards the kitchen but her father stopped her with a pointed look. "Oh right!" Alexis proclaimed, spinning on one foot to face Kate again. "Can I get you something to drink? We have water, soda or wine, but if you want wine Daddy has to get it because I'm not allowed."

Kate couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Wine would be nice, thank you," she said to the girl, then flicked her eyes towards Castle.

"Red or white?" he asked gently.

She shrugged. "Whatever you think would go well with dinner." He nodded to her and then told her to take a seat at the table. Once he'd slipped into the kitchen, Kate took an opportunity to observe his apartment. It was, in a word, crowded.

At first glance, Kate was nearly overwhelmed at the level of belongings he possessed in such a small space. It wasn't messy or cluttered per-say, just full. She guessed the main room of the apartment to be about the same size as hers if not slightly smaller and she lived alone; Castle and his daughter filled this space.

Castle returned not a moment later cutting off her chance for observation. He passed over a glass of red wine and she thanked him. "So what's for dinner?"

"Ah," he said with a broad smile. "I'll let the chef tell you that. Alexis!"

Her head poked out from the kitchen door. "Yeah Dad?"

"Detective Beckett would like to know what's for dinner."

"Taco pizza. And she said I can call her Kate, Dad."

Castle smiled at his partner. "My mistake."

"Taco pizza?" Kate asked him softly.

Castle shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. She found the recipe online. It doesn't look too bad, assuming you like tacos?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Great!"

A minute later he excused himself to the kitchen to aid his daughter affording Kate more opportunity to observe his space. On the table closest to the entry way, she found half a dozen family pictures with a photo frame of eight pictures hung above it. All the pictures were of Alexis. The frame of eight appeared to contain her official school picture from kindergarten up through the current year. Kate smiled at the girl's progression, though she could not say for certain if she strongly resembled her father. Maybe the nose; definitely the eyes.

Hearing a muffled yelp from the kitchen, Kate cringed. "Can I help you guys with anything?"

"No, no!" her partner called back. "You're the guest; sit down—relax!"

Relax. Right, totally. She could absolutely relax while in the same room as the man she slept with for the first time the night before and his daughter, with whom she was sharing a meal for the first time. She took another sip of her wine as she sat down at the four seat kitchen table; the wine would at least assist in the relaxation process.

Once their meal was started Kate found that she actually had a good time. A very good time, as a matter of fact. The taco pizza, while different than she expected, wasn't bad, but the homemade guacamole was excellent (and a Castle family recipe, as she discovered). Castle and his daughter were a joy to watch as they interacted with and teased each other. Kate's cheeks actually began to hurt from laughing so hard.

With the meal over, Alexis retired to her room to work on homework. Castle informed her it was his job to do the dishes due to their dinner role-reversal. Kate offered to help, but he refused by reminding her she was the guest. Despite this, she aided him in carrying plates into the kitchen and stood by the counter with her glass of wine as he began to wash up.

"Alexis is a great kid."

He gave her a gentle smile. "Thanks; I appreciate you saying that. Sometimes, as a single parent you're never sure you're doing anything right."

"Well you are," she promised him. She took another sip of her wine as her eyes drifted down the hallway through which the girl disappeared. "So, ah, is your bedroom back there too?"

Castle dropped two forks into the sink where they landed with a clatter. He gazed over at her and noticed a smile he'd never seen before. It spoke of slyness, intrigue and desire. Damn. Why was it suddenly so hot in his kitchen? "It, ah, it is, but Alexis…she, well, she doesn't go to bed until after eight thirty and I'm not really-"

"I can wait," Kate informed him. Then, after a beat, she added, "If you want."

Castle paused at her implied question.

Did he want that? That was the very thing he had been musing before her arrival.

In the simplest of terms, the answer was a resounding yes; yes, of course. He wanted another night with her. More than one, if possible. Still, the situation called for some serious thought.

He gazed over at her and saw her flick her eyes down to her feet and then back up at him. She tapped her fingers against the edge of her wine glass and bit her lip; he was a goner.

"Y-yeah," he said, his voice coming out with a bit more squeak than he would have preferred. "Yeah, definitely. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable?" He suggested, nodding towards the main sitting area. With a smile, she obliged.

Fifteen minutes later, still drying his hands on a dishtowel, Castle walked out to the sitting room to find Kate perusing his shelves of books. She read each title with the same attention to detail as one would read the most exciting chapter in their favorite story. If she planned on reading the title of each of the books he owned she'd be there for several more hours due to his expansive collection.

Hearing his footsteps, she looked over to him and smiled. "You have a lot more books than I expected."

He chuckled; her tone made him sound illiterate. "Why? Did you think I couldn't read?"

She shook her head. "No. I've read your reports; they're very well written, but I just…I didn't expect this; you may have more than me, which is impress…" Her voice trailed off when she reached the bottom shelf of the case she stood in front of. His brow furrowed for a moment, wondering what she had found, but when he realized; he felt his face immediately grow hot. Shit; he hadn't thought about her finding that!

Stunned nearly into silence, Kate pulled a crisp volume from the shelf and held it in her hands. Her eyes skimmed the front cover once. Twice. A Third time. In a Hail of Bullets by Richard Castle. No, she definitely hadn't read the spine wrong.

Her brow deeply furrowed, she turned to him, holding the title out. "Is…is this you?"

"Ah…" He tossed the dishtowel over his left shoulder and ran his right hand through his hair. "Yeah…that's from a different life."

Kate looked down at the book again. Even with his confirmation it hardly made sense. This was a book—a real book with a dust jacket and cover art. She flipped the book over to find a barcode, ISBN number and even a tiny picture of the author, though he looked significantly younger than the man who stood before her.

She had no idea. Absolutely no idea. Not even the slightest clue. Yes, the verbiage in his written reports had surprised her the first time she read it; she had never met anyone with better grammar than herself and that person being Castle was surprising (even if it was unfair to judge him that way.) Still, there was a difference between being diligent when it came to writing skills and having an actual published novel.

Still stunned, she looked up to him again. "You wrote a book?"

"Two, actually," he confessed.

Kate immediately turned back to the book shelf and couched down. Right next to the empty spot she found another title with his name. She tucked the first book under her arm and pulled the second from its place. She walked over and set her wine glass down on the nearest table so she could hold a book in each hand. "Castle, these are real books. Books that were published."

"Right." He almost found her flummoxed expression amusing; she could not have sounded more shocked if he told her he actually had x-ray vision and super human speed.

"Wh-when?"

"'bout fifteen years ago for the first one," he told her. "And the other about a year later."

"So…you had a contract with a publisher?" she inquired.

"'til I got dropped for low sales, but yeah."

Kate gazed down at the books again just to make sure they weren't figments of her imagination. Nope, they were real; definitely real. "So, ah…do you still write?"

"Oh." He shrugged, slipping his hands into his jean pockets. "I dabble, but nothing too serious. Between work and Alexis I don't have tons of time."

Kate nodded again, though absentmindedly. Her eyes had turned to the first book she picked up. She flipped open the front cover of In a Hail of Bullets and read the summary. The fact that Castle—Castle!—had written it still shocked her. How could Castle be a writer!?

With great amusement, she looked back up at him. "May I borrow this and read it?"

Much to her surprised, he looked embarrassed. "Oh you don't have to…"

"I want to," she promised.

Still, he protested. "It's a thriller I don't know if-"

Her smile grew wider. "I like thrillers. And just about every genre, to be honest."

"Ok. Well sure, go ahead." He agreed. Kate reading his book; that wasn't something he had seen coming. He didn't mind, really. He wasn't embarrassed of his works; he was proud of them, despite his lack of success on a broader scale.

"Is this where you write?"

Her voice pulled him from his inner thoughts and he looked up to see she had wandered to the far corner of the room, where a cramped and cluttered desk was tucked. "Mmhm."

Her eyes scanned the surface, but there wasn't much to see. There was a large empty space where she imagined a laptop usually sat, thought it was missing at present. Instead, she found notes scattered on napkins and tiny scraps of paper. Stuck to the center of the wall above the desk was a yellow stickie note with a single name written on it. "Who's Nikki Heat?"

Castle jumped a step forward at the mention of his latest character by her muse. "Ahh don't look at that."

Kate turned away quickly and muttered out an embarrassed, "Sorry."

Feeling guilty for scolding her, he backtracked. "No it's okay. I just… it's not developed yet. Potential new character. I don't know-"

"Dad!"

"Ah sorry," he apologized to Kate, turning towards the sound of his daughter's call. When he got to her room he would have to congratulate her on her impeccable timing.

Kate waved her hand casually. "Don't worry. I'll just sit here and read."

Just before nine, Castle returned to the main sitting room of his apartment. Alexis's homework question had taken much longer than he expected, plus he realized his bedroom was an absolute disaster area, so he had spent twenty minutes straightening up (aka throwing things in his closet or stuffing them under his bed.) Plus he had changed the sheets. He only hoped Kate wasn't too displeased with his absence. As a matter of fact, part of him expected her to be gone. But she wasn't. He found her sitting cross-legged on his couch, book open in her lap.

"You're still reading?" he asked gently. By the look of it, she'd made significant progress too.

She looked up at him, smiling. "I'm enjoying this."

He shook his head. "You don't have to say that."

"But I am," she promised. "You're a really good writer."

"Well thank you," he said, trying his best not to blush at her ever-growing smile. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him. "So, ah, Alexis just finished getting ready for bed so…"

Kate unfolded herself from the couch and carried the book with her to Castle's desk. She stole one of his stickie notes to use as a bookmark, and then took the book to the entryway, where she tucked it beside her purse so she would not forget it. Then, she carried her wineglass to the kitchen and set it inside the sink. She glanced at Castle, who had watched her perform these tasks with reverence, and felt the slightest bit of nerves form in her belly. "So, um, do we wait for her to fall asleep or…?"

Castle couldn't help but chuckle. "Have you never slept with someone who had a kid?" Biting her lip, she shook her head. It was in that moment he fully realized what a difference their nine-and-a-half year age gap really meant. "Well, Alexis is twelve so she's not going to come barging into my room unannounced if that's what you're worried about."

"I know that," Kate said a bit dumbly. "I was just…"

Castle stepped in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "We don't have to wait, but we do have to be a little quiet."

Kate smiled. "I can be quiet."

"Good." With that, he took her hand in his and led her back to his bedroom.